


no mercy mission this time

by Callioope



Series: Lyra Lives AU [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, Leia Goes to Tatooine AU, Luke & Leia adventures, Skywalker Twins, in which Leia may hate sand as much as her father
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 13:45:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12277761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callioope/pseuds/Callioope
Summary: Leia leans forward in her seat and watches the horizon. She’s been across the galaxy, to more planets than most can imagine, and there’s nothing particularly special about this one. Tatooine: a desert planet in the Outer Rim, backwater and forsaken.Her skin prickles nonetheless as Mos Eisley appears, clustered between rocky hills. Bright light from the planet’s two suns gleams off the white domes.“A wretched hive of scum and villainy,” her father had called it. “Be careful.”She’d sent him a look, and he’d shrugged and added, “I have to say it.”--Instead of retrieving the Death Star plans from Scarif, Leia pursues her father’s original mission: find Obi-Wan Kenobi, and bring him back to Yavin 4.





	no mercy mission this time

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so: first, this is a tangent piece that coincides with [Whatever I Do, I Do It To Protect You](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9607955/chapters/21706829) (a Rogue One Lyra Lives AU). That said, you do not need to have read that to understand this fic. The only thing you need to know is:
> 
>   * Leia met Chirrut in that fic and attempted to persuade him to come with her to Tatooine. He declined, but left her with some advice.
>   * The Rogue One crew were successfully able to extract Galen Erso from the Eadu facility, so the Alliance knows about the Death Star and doesn’t need to go to Scarif.
> 

> 
> Second, as I have done with Whatever I Do, this takes existing scenes in canon and then modifies them based on the elements that have changed. For example, some of Luke’s lines from the novelization appear in the Tosche Station scene (a deleted scene from the movie). His lines are the same until Leia starts talking. You should recognize most of these lines, taken from various parts of the OT, but mostly ANH.
> 
> Third, the title is a slight variation on Vader’s line to Leia in A New Hope, when he says, “You weren’t on any mercy mission this time.” Because to stay with the theme, I wanted to keep the titles as lines Star Wars fathers say to their daughters. (Even, uh, if the context is slightly different.)
> 
> Fourth, this entire fic is just pure self-indulgence so. I hope you don’t mind.

“Mos Eisley spaceport.”

Leia leans forward in her seat and watches the horizon. She’s been across the galaxy, to more planets than most can imagine, and there’s nothing particularly special about this one. Tatooine: a desert planet in the Outer Rim, backwater and forsaken.

Her skin prickles nonetheless as Mos Eisley appears, clustered between rocky hills. Bright light from the planet’s two suns gleams off the white domes.

“A wretched hive of scum and villainy,” her father had called it. “Be careful.”

She’d sent him a look, and he’d shrugged and added, “I have to say it.”

Wretched hive that it is, apparently no other ports can boast better: run by gangs or mercenaries, they’ll cost her more trouble than it’s worth. Besides, being able to handle trouble and _wanting_ trouble are entirely different, and she has no interest in crossing paths with any cronies of the Hutt Cartel.

As Captain Raymus Antilles directs the pilot to dock in one of the hundreds of hangars in the city, she goes to collect See-Threepio and Artoo-Detoo. They’re already waiting near the ramp, ready for when it opens, and as she approaches, Artoo lets out a string of bells and chirps.

“Mistress Leia,” Threepio says. “Artoo says we can find Obi-Wan Kenobi at the far end of the Jundland Wastes.”

Leia arches an eyebrow. “Sounds delightful.”

Artoo responds with a series of beeps.

“I beg your pardon, Mistress, but Artoo claims this area of the planet to be — dangers?! What dangers?”

More beeps and whistles and whirrs.

“Sand People! Hostile!”

The conversation continues, Artoo’s litany of sound effects punctuating Threepio’s indignation. Leia listens patiently, watching the ramp open and descend beyond the arguing droids.

“No, I don’t think you’re a sufficient escort to protect the princess.”

Artoo hums.

“No, I wouldn’t go alone with you either.”

Artoo emits an angry blurt of sound.

“Artoo! We are in the presence of royalty!”

The next series of beeps Leia could only describe as a snicker.

A soldier idling nearby leans over. “Are they always like this?”

“On a good day,” Leia responds. “Come on, Threepio, Artoo. Let’s go hire a guide.”

#

She’d chosen the white gown for several reasons: the color, to reflect the double sunlight; the hood, to protect her eyes; the material, to keep her cool.

Mere minutes after disembarking, she realizes she’s made a mistake. Dust and sand covers what had appeared to be gleaming white walls from above, and the locals milling around the dock area dress more in beige and gray than white. The stark color of her dress draws more eyes than she cares for. The only people she does match are the stormtroopers, and she has no interest in associating with them.

Not that there are many, and she suspects the few that she does see account for most of the Imperial presence on planet.

She spots two lurking at the entrance of the hangar, watching idly as Captain Antilles’ copilot argues with the dockmaster.

“Everything alright, Captain?” she asks.

Raymus glances at her. “A little paperwork problem, but don’t delay your mission on our account. We’ll sort this out.”

“They probably need a bribe,” she says. He nods, and she continues forward, walking past the two troopers, nodding politely. They nod back, and she doesn’t notice a third figure, lurking in the shadows, watching her.

#

Three hours of: navigating the twisting streets of Mos Eisley in the glare of not one, but two suns.

Three hours of: slinking into dimly lit bars that seem more like caves, dark and sticky and full of less than desirable creatures watching her with bright eyes that she can’t see, as her eyes adjust after being in the brightness outside.

Three hours of: “no, I haven’t heard that name,” “no, I can’t take you there,” “no, what would a pretty gal like want out there? Come with me honey, I’ll show you a real adventure.”

She’s left a trail of cowards and creeps behind her, a mix of those who had declined her inquiries and those who had seemed perhaps a little too eager, whom she hadn’t trusted. She’s learned, during her sweep of the city, that these Sand People have increased their raids, ventured further outside their homes, and attacked farms. Locals feel less inclined to face them in their own remote territory. The others, the ones who listen long enough to hear her out, seem to have other desires for her future on Tatooine.

This time, when she enters another cantina thick with darkness, compared to the bright light outside, she’s resolved just to get a drink, to take a break, and re-evaluate her strategy.

And since this isn’t her first cantina of the day, Leia knows, standing at the top of the stairs by the entrance, that everyone will be looking at her, while all she sees are shadows.

 _Intentional_ , she thinks, frowning, only pausing for a brief moment before striding towards the bar. Her eyes will adjust. No point in standing on display.

Unfortunately, because her eyes haven’t adjusted yet, she collides into something furry.

She takes a step back and squints, looking up, and up, and up. She sees nothing but brown, shaggy fur for several feet. The Wookie lets out a low warble, but she barely hears it.

“Will someone get this walking carpet out of my way?”

“Cool it, sister.” A man appears from around the other side of the Wookie.

Nothing’s cool on this planet, least of all the scruffy-looking rogue standing in front of her, although he’s certainly trying hard to appear so. He looks her up and down as well, and then his frown slides into a grin. Only a pilot would carry himself like this, she thinks, and she braces herself for some cheesy pick up line.

The Wookie growls again.

Her two guards step forward on either side of her, hands heading towards their blasters. A little excessive, although she can’t blame them. She’s well beyond wary of the likes that haunt even the cleanest of Tatooine’s establishments.

“Just let me pass, and it’s no trouble,” Leia says, hoping to rein back her guards. Still, she doesn’t hold back the bite in her tone.

The grin now turns to a sneer, and the man holds up a hand to gesture for his friend to step out of the way. He raises his other arm towards the bar.

“After you, your highness,” he says. She knows there’s no way he could really tell, but the epithet sends a chill down her spine regardless.

Scowling, she takes her place at the bar, orders a drink, and waits.

Beside her, a tall man, dark hair, mustached, stares into his own drink. He lets her be, barely looking up as she settles next to him, and she lets him be. For today, this is a first.

Her eyes well adjusted, she looks around. It’s just like any other bar she’s visited on this planet. An assortment of creatures, human and alien. The band isn’t half bad, and she lets the music loosen the tension in her shoulders, just a little.

Threepio was right to worry about the Jundland Wastes and Sand People. If she’s accomplished anything today, it’s the confirmation of this local threat. But she never intended to head that way first, anyways.

Her father had been clear. She would need to make one stop before seeking out General Kenobi, otherwise there’d be no hope in convincing him to leave Tatooine.

The bartender finally returns, and as he slides the glass in front of her, he asks, “Will that be all?”

She slips him more credits than the drink costs. “Know anyone who could take me to a local ranch?”

“How local?”

She shifts. She has no idea how close or far her destination is to Mos Eisley, and her father hadn’t known enough about Tatooine geography to suggest a useful landmark. This has been what’s hindered her mission all day.

“The Lars Homestead,” she says.

The bartender snorts. “Which is near what?”

She hesitates, but the man next to her has angled to face her. “Where did you say?” he asks.

“I’m looking for a man named Lars,” she says.

The man’s eyes look her up and down, as if noticing her for the first time, and his brows furrow. “I know him,” he says. “He’s a neighbor.”

The bartender rolls his eyes and walks away, pocketing her extra change despite having been of no use.

“Pardon the curiosity,” he says, “but why are you looking for him?”

“Family friend.” She takes a sip of her drink. Nothing special, but she’s thirsty enough in this heat that she finds herself taking another gulp.

“Hmm.” The man finishes his own drink and sets it down on the counter with a soft clunk. Then he turns back to scrutinize her.

“Well?” she says, tired of waiting for him to vocalize some assessment.

“I don’t think Owen Lars has ever been off planet,” he says. “Neither has his wife, or his father, or anyone else in his family.”

“Perhaps I’ve been here before.”

He smiles slightly, looks down at the bar. It’s a warm smile, not unfriendly, though perhaps a little wary. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Can you take me to him or not?” she asks.

He looks at her. “Why?” he asks again.

She stares back, meeting his eyes. He’s a total stranger. He could be lying about knowing Lars. He could be someone dangerous. What are the odds that she’d run into a neighbor? (Threepio would calculate them, if he were here, but she’s learned that droids aren’t welcome in bars.)

Chirrut Îmwe’s voice echoes in the back of her head. _Trust your instincts. They’ll serve you well._

“Because I want to recruit his nephew.”

#

Biggs Darklighter leads them to his landspeeder, parked in the transport depot. It’s clearly a larger model, based on some of the others she sees, but it won’t fit her entire entourage.

“Sorry boys,” she says to the two guards who have accompanied her so far.

One of them clears his throat. “Ma’am — are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I’ll comm you when I get there or if anything happens. Go see if Raymus needs your help.”

The second guard watches Biggs over her shoulder, as he preps the speeder.

“We can send the droids — ” the first starts to say.

She shakes her head. “My instructions were clear. I need them with me. But I appreciate your concern.”

Her tone leaves no room for argument, and so, nodding reluctantly, the guards step back.

She climbs into the speeder’s passenger seat, only glancing briefly at Threepio and Artoo to confirm they’re situated.

“So tell me,” he says as he starts the engine, wasting no time. “How do you know Luke?”

Leia sighs and watches the buildings fly past.

“No one in the Lars family has ever left Tatooine,” Biggs repeats, and Leia looks back at him.

“Where have I heard that before?” she says, and then reminds herself not to be quite so hostile to the only person who’s been able to help her. She softens her tone. “I’d gathered they hadn’t gone far from home when I couldn’t find a soul who’d heard of them.”

“Not too many locals in these parts,” Biggs says with a shrug. “Lars is a moisture farmer, he’s well known enough in that circuit, but you won’t find his associates in bars in Mos Eisley.”

Leia says nothing, just stares out at the desert as they leave the outskirts of the city.

“I was wondering if Luke sent his application in,” Biggs continues. “And that’s why you’re here.”

“Application?”

“To the Academy. We’ve wanted to go for years.” Biggs accelerates over the open sand, and the speeder bobs a little. “I just came back myself. But Luke’s too dedicated in helping his uncle.”

“Loyalty is a good thing,” Leia says idly. _As long as it’s for the right cause_ , she doesn’t say. “Why do you think the Academy would send someone?”

Biggs shrugs and smiles slightly. “Luke’s the best pilot I’ve ever known. The Academy might do that, for a special recruit.”

Leia remains quiet. Her instincts tell her to trust this man, but he’s just admitted to training with the Imperial Academy. He’s probably come home to see his family before starting his commission. She shifts in her seat.

“Luke and I have been flying since we were boys,” he continues, as they race over the sand. Mos Eisley disappears behind them, and she’s struck by the sheer _nothingness_ of the desert. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think the horizon went on forever, just sand for miles.

As the twin suns bear down on them, a sudden gratefulness strikes her: an appreciation that she didn’t have to grow up here. It’s an odd thought, a thought that’s never occurred to her on any other planet, even though she _has_ been on desert planets before and she _has_ been on planets less comfortable and even less safe. (Then again, she’s only been here a few hours and hasn’t run into anyone associated with the Hutts.)

She listens, as Biggs describes his best friend. Nothing he says stands out in particular, other than that he sounds like a skilled pilot, and the rebellion could always use more pilots.

And yet.

Something seems to sing around his name. Luke Skywalker is nothing unique, not a special name, but again she feels that instinct. Like a soft hum in her chest.

She tries to ignore it. She tries to tell herself that the reason she listens a little more attentively, asks clarifying questions, and wants more detail about this boy, is that her father made it clear: recruiting him was essential to convincing Kenobi to come with her.

Leia isn’t used to lying to herself.

#

At first, Leia thinks she’s imagining it. Two white mounds appear on the shimmering horizon, more like smears of white against the backdrop of blue. But as they fly closer, she confirms: some kind of refuge waits before them.

But it’s not the Lars Homestead.

“Welcome to Tosche Station,” Biggs says, as he parks the speeder. “It’s a pit stop, but there’s a good chance Luke will be here.”

He leads her up a short flight of stairs, around one of the buildings, down a flight of stairs, and again she’s struck by the darkness as they go inside. Again she feels like she’s entering a cave, except music plays, a lit table holds an assortment of parts, and machines in the back blink with lights.

A couple entangled in a chair by the lit table sit up as Biggs enters.

“Biggs!” “What are you doing back!”

“Hey Fixer, Camie,” he says, nodding. Two more emerge from a game room in the back.

“Biggs!”

Greetings go around as Biggs’ friends celebrate his return. Leia waits patiently, glancing around the room, letting her eyes adjust and wondering which of these boys will be Luke.

“Hey, where’s Luke?” Biggs asks, pulling away from the last in a series of hugs. _Guess the answer is none_ , she thinks, crossing her arms.

Several of his friends shrug, and one answers, “Out working, I think.”

Biggs laughs. “No — really.”

Another one nods. “Haven’t seen him all morning.”

Smile fading, Biggs scratches the back of his head and turns back to Leia. “I’m sorry, I thought for sure he’d be here.”

“He’ll come around soon enough,” a girl says, settling back down in her boyfriend’s lap.

“Do you mind waiting?” Biggs asks. “If Luke’s out working, he could be anywhere on the farm. It’d take awhile to find him.”

They could just as easily continue forward to the Lars Homestead and wait for Luke there. From Biggs’ description, Lars Owen won’t be too keen to let his nephew leave, and it wouldn’t hurt to start persuading him now. But if Luke is working, Owen will be too.

Besides, she can tell Biggs wants to catch up with some of his old friends.

Leia glances towards the door, where the blazing suns wait, and decides a short reprieve inside sounds practically blissful.

“Not a problem,” she says.

#

She sits in the back room, watching Biggs play some computer-operated pool game, wishing she had tried to persuade him to take her on to meet Lars, when she hears someone stomping down the steps.

She couldn’t say how she knows it’s Luke, she just does. Imwe’s words echo in her head, and she shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

“Come on, shape it up you guys!” the boy says as he enters. Through the glass, she sees him pick up a part from the table and toss it at the couple lounging in the chair before continuing into the game room.

“Biggs!”

Biggs turns away from the computer screen. “Hey!”

“I didn’t know you were back! When’d you get in?”

The two embrace. Leia stands and steps behind Biggs.

“Just now,” he says. “I never expected you to be out working!”

The boy throws back his head and laughs. “The Academy hasn’t changed you a bit! Hey, what happened? Didn’t you get your commission?”

Leia turns away from the boy she believes ( _you know_ , a voice in her head whispers) is Luke, having still not been introduced, and watches Biggs’ face. To her surprise, it darkens, and he withdraws a bit.

“Of course,” he says. “Signed to work aboard the freighter Rand Ecliptic. First Mate Biggs Darklighter, at your service.” He gives a mock salute, and Leia cocks her head at this. Still grinning, he adds, “I just came to say goodbye to all you landlocked simpletons.”

They all laugh, and Leia offers a polite smile.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” Biggs says, finally turning to her. He moves to the side so she can step forward. “Leia, this is Luke Skywalker. Luke, this is Leia…”

“Organa,” she finishes. “Pleasure to meet you, Luke.”

He smiles even wider and the whole room seems to brighten. She smiles back, not at all her usual polite smile of a politician, but a sincere grin.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he says quickly. “What brings you here?”

If he tries at all to hide his incredulity that someone would deign to visit this remote planet, he fails astoundingly. To his credit or his detriment, she doesn’t think Luke Skywalker has ever tried to deceive anyone, at least not about something important.

“Well,” she says, and she glances at Biggs again, who seems just as intrigued as Luke. “Perhaps we could talk somewhere private?”

Biggs leads them back outside, to meander over the ledge along the top of the building. Leia frowns at the two suns and pulls her hood up to protect her head.

As they walk towards the far corner, she looks Luke over once more. He’s fixated on his returned best friend, the graduate of the Imperial Academy, with an Imperial commission. Whatever Biggs’ thinks or says, Luke will probably follow suit. They both seem friendly enough, but the people here know nothing about what happens throughout the rest of the galaxy. They’re lucky, in that way, but it won’t be long before the Empire spreads even to the most remote planets.

Still. Biggs had mentioned Luke shared his love of piloting and his desire to join the Academy. Perhaps they’re not merely oblivious. Perhaps they are loyal to the Empire.

Perhaps she just imagined Biggs’ hesitation inside.

It’s not worth the risk. She’ll have to change tactics.

“She’s here to recruit you,” Biggs says, before she can say anything, and she curses the impulse from earlier.

“Recruit me?” Luke says, shocked. “But I haven’t — ”

“Haven’t you submitted your application to the Academy?” Biggs says.

Leia frowns.

So does Luke. He turns away and scuffs his foot against the roof. “I had to withdraw my application.”

Biggs just stares at him.

“I had to! Uncle Owen needs help on the farm. And the Sand People — they’re started raiding the outskirts of Anchorhead.”

Biggs scoffs. “Your uncle could hold off a whole army of raiders with one blaster.”

“From home, maybe, but he’s installed more vaporators. He can’t cover that much area on his own…”

“And what good is it protecting his land from the Sand People when the Empire...” He cuts himself off abruptly, glancing at Leia, and then he changes tactics. “You need to get off this sandpile. And Leia can help.”

Luke turns to her, too, and his blue eyes are bright and eager. “Can you? Can you really?”

Leia purses her lips and stares between the two. Her throat is dry as the desert around them as she says, “What were you going to say about the Empire, Biggs?”

His face goes paler than the bleached stone walls of Tosche Station.

“He was implying the Empire would take over my uncle’s farm,” Luke answers, turning to Biggs. “But you’ve said it yourself — they’d never bother with this rock.”

“You’ve got a mouth like a meteor,” Biggs grumbles, but Leia feels hope ignite in her chest for the first time since she heard Biggs attended the Academy.

“That may or may not be true,” Leia says slowly. “The Empire may never express interest in Tatooine.”

Luke and Biggs watch her, the first confused, the latter guarded.

“But what about the rest of the star systems across the galaxy?” She tries to keep the fury from her voice, as she thinks about what she’s heard, what she’s _seen_ , what she knows. Even out here, the whisper of the Death Star shakes her to her core. “What about the people on those planets, and their uncles, and their farms?”

“ _Are_ you with the Academy?” Biggs finally thinks to ask.

She meets his hard gaze. “No.”

Something shifts then, in Biggs’ posture, in the way they face each other.

Leia thinks about how she’d seen him back in Mos Eisley, sitting at the bar, withdrawn and quiet, barely noticing her until she’d mentioned his neighbor.

“How did you like the Academy, Biggs?” she asks softly.

Biggs eyes Luke before answering. He doesn’t want to speak poorly of the Academy, not when he’s been trying to persuade his friend to go. But he also doesn’t want to lie.

“Biggs?” Luke asks, when his friend stays silent too long.

“You should have heard some of the stories I’ve heard, Luke,” he says, voice low but rushed. “You should have learned some of the outrages I’ve learned. The Empire may have been great, once — but it’s rotten. Rotten to the core.”

Luke gapes. “But — “ He pauses, eyes wide. “But I thought you wanted me to go — ”

“You should, Luke,” Biggs says quickly. “Let them train you. And then…”

“No,” Luke says. “No, I can’t do that. I can’t do a damn thing. I’m stuck here.”

“What if you weren’t?” Leia asks.

Luke turns to her, surprise still hanging in his jaw. “I… my uncle needs me.”

“What if he didn’t?” she says quickly.

He shakes his head, surprise turning to disbelief. “You can’t convince him. I’ve been trying to convince him for years.”

“Let me try.”

#

Biggs won’t accompany them to Luke’s home — he chuckles awkwardly and mumbles something about not wanting to be a bystander of that conversation, and wishes Leia the best of luck. She tells him the hangar number for the Tantive IV and reminds him of the names of the two guards he’d met earlier.

It’s for the better — Luke’s speeder is even smaller than Biggs’, and the droids still tag along. (She ignores Threepio’s complaints about sand and dust in his joints.)

Luke is quiet as he navigates towards his home, and she wonders if this is unusual for him. _You have a mouth like a meteor_ , Biggs had said, and Leia thinks it’s more of his personality than his mouth. He seems to leave a trail in his wake, a brightness, as if everyone is aware when he enters a room.

“Why me?” he finally asks. “Biggs said you came to recruit _me_. How do you even know my name?”

“My father knew General Kenobi.” The suns are starting to set, and the blue sky is yielding to something darker, with hints of purple at the edges.

“General Kenobi?” His brows furrow together. “Do you mean Old Ben Kenobi?”

“Maybe.” Old Ben, Obi-Wan. Same last name. Not much of a disguise, if he’d been attempting to hide. But then, the Imperial presence out here is barely existent. “Do you know him well?”

He shakes his head. “My uncle usually waves him off when he comes around. Some of the farmers say he’s a… well, a sorcerer.” He blushes a little, like a child embarrassed to believe in such things.

“General Kenobi was a Jedi knight who fought in the Clone Wars,” Leia says evenly, watching Luke. He doesn’t look at her. “Along with Anakin Skywalker.”

Now Luke turns sharply at her — and jolts the controls of the speeder. They veer off course, just slightly, before he corrects it with a jerk. Leia grips the side of the speeder, but otherwise shows know hint of surprise or nervousness.

“Are you related?” she asks.

He’s quiet for a moment before he says, “Anakin Skywalker was my father’s name.” His voice is hollow with wonder. “But he was just a navigator on a spice freighter. That’s what my uncle told me.” He pauses. He doesn’t look at her again, but his head twitches in her direction. “How do you know of him? Did — did your father know him, too?”

Leia thinks. “He might have. I read about him in a history on the Clone Wars. My father only ever mentioned him once: when he told me that in order to convince Obi-Wan to leave with me, I’d also have to convince the son of Anakin Skywalker.”

Luke slumps a little in his chair at that. “So you’re really here for Old Ben.”

“It’s been made clear to me,” she says, reaching out and touching his arm. “I’m here for you both. You’re a package deal. General Kenobi won’t leave without you. You must be quite important to him.”

Luke’s hands tighten on the controls. “But Ben doesn’t bother with the likes of me. I don’t know why he would.”

“We’ll find out,” Leia says, “when you take me to him tomorrow.”

They continue on in silence. And for all the help her instincts have been so far, there’s only one thing her gut tells her now: convincing Owen Lars to let his nephew leave won’t be a fraction as easy as convincing the nephew — and she isn’t sure she’s succeeded there yet, either.

#

In the waning light, she barely notices as they approach a small, domed building, until Luke pulls up next to it. Lights from below illuminate a sunken courtyard; of course, it makes sense that a desert house would be mostly below ground.

“Uncle Owen! Aunt Beru!” Luke shouts, leaning over the edge of the large hole, but no one answers right away.

“Come on,” he mutters over his shoulder.

He leads her towards the small building, which really just serves as an entrance, down a short flight of stairs, through a narrow archway. It’s now dark enough outside that her eyes don’t need to spend so much time adjusting. She’d be thankful enough for that, even if it weren’t for the extended staircase that twists and winds through sandy rock. At last they reach the bottom of the pit-courtyard she’d seen from above.

“Luke!”

A woman appears in one of the doorways across the courtyard.

“Hey Aunt Beru,” Luke says, hurrying forward to what appears to be the dining room.

She has a kind face, soft blue eyes and a weary but warm smile. “Who’s the new friend?” she asks.

“This is Leia,” Luke says. Leia lowers her hood and smiles.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Leia says.

“Likewise.” Beru’s eyes flicker over Leia and linger on her dress, her face, her hair. She’s trying to be discreet, but her eyebrows knit together, just slightly.

Used to scrutiny, Leia doesn’t balk, just follows Luke into the dining room. After a moment, Beru shakes herself.

“Forgive me,” Beru says, moving past the table and back into the kitchen. “It’s just that you remind me of someone.”

“It’s alright,” Leia says.

“Can I offer you anything to drink?”

“Who does she remind you of?” Luke asks at the same time. Beru’s eyes dart back to her nephew, and now her expression folds into something more exhausted than anything.

Before Beru can answer, a man enters the dining room.

“Luke, I told you I needed those vaporators fixed by sundown,” he says. Here is a man just as weary as his wife, but lacking her warmth, with lines around his eyes and even deeper lines across his forehead.

“That one on the south side needs a new component,” Luke says, his voice rising a little defensively.

Beru clears her throat. “Owen. We have company.”

Finally, Luke’s uncle turns and looks at Leia, hovering near the chair at the table that she suspects usually remains empty. He says nothing, but shares a look with Beru. Leia doesn’t miss the slight nod, but still they remain quiet.

“This is Leia,” Luke says, and by his bright tone, he seems to have noticed nothing. “She’s a friend of Biggs’. I met her at Tosche Station — I went there to get the new part,” he adds quickly.

“Are you from the Academy?” Owen says. He settles into his chair without glancing at her.

“Actually,” Leia says, “I’m looking for someone.”

“I’m sorry, we weren’t expecting company,” Beru says, as Leia sits. “Luke?”

“Yea, I got it,” he says, and he disappears into the kitchen.

“We need Luke here,” Owen says, pouring himself a glass of blue milk. “If you’re here to recruit him.”

Leia stares at him, her turn to scrutinize someone tonight. “Why do you think I’m here to take him away?” she asks.

Owen glances at her, then at Luke as he returns. As he lays the place setting, utensils, cup, and plate in front of her, Leia remains focused on Owen.

“I think she’s looking for Old Ben,” Luke says, continuing the part of the conversation he’d last heard before leaving. “She called him…”

“General Kenobi,” Leia says. “Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Owen grunts. The revelation that she’s not here for his nephew does not relieve the tense frown deepening the lines on Owen’s face. Maybe he knows better than to believe it.

“Help yourself, dear,” Beru says, from Leia’s left. Leia finally turns away from Owen to look at the food in front of them.

“This looks delicious,” she says to Beru. “Thank you.”

“That wizard is a crazy old man,” Owen says, before Beru can respond. “He’s not the man you’re looking for.”

When Leia has filled her plate, she hands the serving utensils to Owen.

“I don’t think he exists anymore,” Owen says. His eyes flit briefly to Luke before he continues filling his plate. “He died around the same time as your father.”

Now Luke looks up, eyes bright with hope and curiosity.

“He knew my father?”

“I told you to forget it.” He said no such thing, Leia knows, but she sees Owen’s hands tremble slightly as he lifts his fork. “In the morning, I need you to help me pick out new droids.”

Luke sighs and starts serving himself.

“Why do you call him a wizard?” Leia asks.

“What?”

“Old Ben. Why do you call him a wizard?”

Owen shrugs and shakes his head. “It’s just a nickname he has.”

“Some people,” Leia says slowly, “used to call the Jedi Knights wizards. Sorcerers.”

Owen looks at her, but says nothing.

“General Kenobi was a Jedi Knight,” she finishes.

Owen stares back at her, barely blinking. Then he sets down his fork and leans towards her. “It’s just a word we use. He’s a hermit that lives on the far end of the Jundland Wastes, out in the middle of nowhere. Keeps to himself. Doesn’t keep a farm, isn’t employed on one. I don’t know how he looks after himself. That man isn’t a Jedi or a General. Just a beggar.”

Luke shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he passes the serving utensils to his aunt.

“Well,” Leia says, keeping her voice even, like she’s talking to an annoying politician. “I’d like to meet him, whatever he is.”

He shrugs again, but nods this time. “I’ll take you in the morning.”

“I can take her,” Luke says, his voice cutting sharp like a knife.

“I told you,” Owen says, picking up his fork again. “I need you to pick up two new droids. The jawas will be passing by tomorrow. They’ll likely come while I’m taking her. It’s an important job, but your judgment is sound.”

The compliment and the trust aren’t enough for Luke; they’re not what he wants. His shoulders sag and he leans an elbow on the table as he pushes his food around. But after a moment he looks up, catches Leia’s eye briefly before turning to his uncle.

“I was hoping to transfer my application to the Academy this year.”

Owen and Beru share a look again. Beru says nothing and takes a long gulp of her drink.

“You mean the next semester before the harvest?” Owen asks.

“Sure,” Luke plows on, “there’ll be more than enough droids.

“The harvest is when I need you the most!” Luke scoffs, but Owen continues. “This year we’ll make enough from the harvest that I’ll be able to hire more hands, and then you can go to the Academy next year.”

“But that’s a whole ‘nother year!”

“It’s only one season more,” Owen says, and his tone lifts a little, is a little kinder and more patient.

“Yea,” Luke grumbles. “That’s what you said when Biggs and Tank left.”

Leia watches this, eating her dinner and saying nothing. But she has an idea — one she’ll bring up with Owen in the morning.

#

Nial Fital is an analyst for Imperial Intelligence. Every morning, he wakes up at the same time, opens his drawer and puts on the uniform carefully folded and stored there, eats breakfast, and reports for duty. He puts on a set of headphones and reads the words scrolling across his screen, and when he finds anything interesting, he reports it to his supervisor.

The intel he finds, as far as he knows, has never been supremely important. Some of his peers eagerly scour their reports for hints of wanted Jedi survivors. Some scan every line for revelations that this or that senator is sympathetic to the rebellion. But Nial? He just follows his orders, and doesn’t think much beyond them. He just wants to keep his head down.

So when he comes across a report detailing the arrival of the Tantive IV on Tatooine, he doesn’t think much of it. The comings and goings of many senators (if not all of them) are monitored and tracked. Lately, Senator Organa’s name has been flagged as a senator of interest, so he summarizes the key points and forwards the report to his supervisor.

#

Leia wakes in the guest room, a small space with white walls and narrow bed. She wouldn’t say it’s comfortable, but it’s better than some rebel accommodations, and besides, after a long day out in the heat of Tatooine, she sleeps instantly and deeply enough that she actually feels well rested.

She hears a rap on her door and realizes this is what woke her.

When she opens the door, it’s Luke. She can see, from the familiar colors in the sky above his head, that it must be sunrise.

“Come on,” he says. “I’ll take you to Old Ben.”

Leia frowns and stares at him out of the corner of her eyes. “I thought your uncle was going to take me.”

“Nah — something came up on the north end. Some equipment malfunction. He’s needed there. He said I could take you.”

She purses her lips and looks away. The kid is not used to lying or subterfuge, she thinks. Or if he is, it’s only on a basic level. The kind of level a kid needs to get out of chores or explain bad grades or cover his tardiness. Leia’s own childhood dealt with more people prone to lying, and maybe she ought to cut him some slack.

Again, she’s struck by that strange question: _what if I had grown up here?_

She can’t imagine having to live under Owen Lars’ roof; she’d clashed with her own father (a reasonable, patient man) enough to know that Owen would have been insufferable. She might have run away by now, if she were Luke, she might have run off searching for the rebellion, desperate to serve somewhere useful, somewhere influential and impactful and capable of making the galaxy better, rather than serve on a farm in the middle of nowhere.

“Well, are you coming?” Luke says.

She looks back at him. Maybe that’s not fair, to judge Luke for staying here. He’s loyal, she thinks again, and loyalty applied to a good cause… and besides, what are the schools even like out here? What do they teach? Would she know half of what she knows?

Still, she’s certain, even without her tutors and her training, that her yearning, her hunger for more, would not have chained her to this planet.

And she hopes, maybe, Luke might be willing to break his chains.

“Yea,” she says. “Just give me a second.”

#

A desert looks the same, she thinks, as she finds herself yet again sailing across Tatooine’s landscape of sand and rocks.

But soon enough, the speeder approaches something else, something new, and she sits up in her seat. It looks like a canyon, and when she says so, Luke smiles and shakes his head.

“You should see Beggar’s Canyon,” he says. “I go flying there sometimes.” And now he’s talking, that mouth like a meteor trailing on and on, and Leia doesn’t mind. It’s almost relaxing — this mission, almost like a vacation, except perhaps for the surrounding terrain.

“So I cut off my power, shut down the afterburners, and dropped in low on Deak’s tail,” Luke continues, talking faster. “I was so close to him, I thought I was going to fry my instrumentation!”

His grin turns somewhat sheepish as he adds, “I did bust up the skyhopper pretty bad. Uncle Owen was pretty upset. But it’s all fixed up now.”

Leia’s heard pilots chatter before, plenty of times. And while many might be prone to boasting, she suspects, from what she’s heard between both Luke and Biggs, that Luke is a pretty damn good pilot. Of course, it’s not her expertise, and she couldn’t say it with any authority, but give him a ride in the simulator, and she’d put down a pile of credits that he’d score high marks.

He stays quiet, though, as they get deeper into the Jundland Wastes. The rocky cliffs close in on them, twisting and windy. Behind them, Artoo hums nervously.

“I don’t see why I had to come along,” Threepio says.

“I’d miss you too much,” Leia says, “if I left you behind.”

Artoo blurts out a noise.

“There’s no need to be jealous, Artoo,” Threepio responds.

“Why _did_ you bring the droids?” Luke asks, easing them around another corner.

“That Artoo unit has information,” Leia answers, “that General Kenobi might find persuasive.” She gestures to Threepio. “And I can’t speak binary, so Threepio got to tag along.”

Luke glances at her out of the corner of his eye, but he can’t pull his focus away from the terrain in front of him. “What information?”

“I’m afraid that’s classified,” Leia answers. “Rebellion personnel only.”

Luke sighs. “You heard my uncle last night. I can’t leave.”

“I have an idea that might convince him,” Leia says. “But I was hoping to talk to him this morning. Too bad he was busy.”

She sees red flush up his neck, like the sun rise, but he says nothing. Not even a curious question or surprised exclamation.

“Luke,” she says softly. “It’s good to be committed to something, especially to your family.”

“But?” The way he says it harsh; it sounds like a bite.

“The Empire does more than imperialize commerce,” Leia says. “And it’s not just recently. Your friend Biggs is right, the Empire is rotten. But it’s nothing new. My family has been working against its injustices for my entire life. Luke... people are dying, all across the galaxy.”

“I…” He slumps in his chair. “What good am I, against something like that?”

“You could shoot at a real enemy,” Leia says, leaning towards him, “and not just — what did you call them? Womprats.”

He frowns. But before he can say anything, Artoo lets out a series of high, plaintiff beeps.

“Oh my!” Threepio says. “There are several creatures approaching from the northwest.”

“Sand People!”

Leia glances back at him.

“That’s the direction we’re headed. We’ll have to meet them head on.”

“Can we take them?”

“Can you shoot?” Luke gestures to the extra blaster he packed, stashed behind Leia.

She nods.

“Alright.” He parks the speeder in an alcove. “Follow my lead.”

#

Leia does follow Luke’s lead at first, for the simple reason that she knows nothing of Sand People. She doesn’t much appreciate being told to hide in the alcove with Artoo, but until she gets her own take on what these creatures are like and what they are apt to do, she abides.

Luke underestimates her. Maybe he just wants to play hero.

She clutches the blaster he gave her and glances around, trying to see if any other spots within range might provide a better vantage point, but ultimately, she stays.

She just doesn’t know what to expect.

Nor is she foolish enough to do something just for the sake of her pride.

But she keeps her gun ready and watches his back as he hikes up to an outcropping across from her. She can see him from her meager post. He leans over the cliff, binoculars out, rifle propped beside him, and peers down a part of the canyon that she can’t see from her angle.

He’s going to do something stupid, she thinks.

She can’t move now; she’s sat long enough and doesn’t have eyes far enough down the crevice to see what might be approaching.

She’s trying to look anyways, craning her neck out a little just to see, when she hears it.

A loud, long war cry echoes along the corridor, followed by a surprised shriek from Threepio.

She looks back at Luke’s hideout just in time to see a robed figure take out Luke.

“Kriff!” she says. Artoo beeps quietly behind her.

The creature swings his staff down.

She aims her blaster and shoots.

The creature falls, but several other war cries echo from further down the canyon.

She only hesitates long enough to decide they sound far away before sneaking from her small cave. Somewhere, at the back of her mind, in a place capable of rationalizing her actions, she’s already evaluated: the creature hadn’t had a blaster, just a staff. Its friends are far away.

Still, she’s not brash, and she keeps close to the the rock walls and boulders, carefully making her way up to Luke, blaster raised. She won’t be caught off guard.

He’s unconscious when she gets there, but she checks his face and his pulse and all seems fine. She sets her blaster aside and grabs the rifle.

In position, she doesn’t even need Luke’s binoculars to see them: two more Sand People approach.

She doesn’t hesitate; she fires.

Leia isn’t a sharpshooter. It takes several shots before she hits one (and even that feels lucky), and the other decides the quarry must not be worth it. Or perhaps it’s looking to return with peers.

Either way, she’s secured their position. For now.

A louder, more animalistic cry pierces the air, freezes her bones.

“What is that?” she says to no one, for Threepio also appears to have ‘fainted,’ by the looks of his prone chassis. She notes that his arm has also been detached and lies several meters from his body.

“Luke!” she whispers, shaking him. “Luke!”

The beast roars again. She hesitates only a moment, before dragging Luke closer to the rock wall she’s been using as a cover. He’s heavy and groans slightly as she moves him, but otherwise remains useless and unconscious.

Once they’re both secure, she takes the rifle and chances a look back into the canyon.

All she sees is a hooded figure, nothing like the Sand People, but still humanoid in shape and size. Still, what could have possibly made that sound? Did he tether his beast nearby?

The robed creature peers into the alcove — where she left Artoo! Even from up here, she can hear his worried beeps.

“Hello there!” the creature says, and he sounds human. “Come here, my little friend. Don’t be afraid.”

Artoo beeps and rocks. The man pauses, then he turns around, turns directly to look at Leia. And he lowers his hood.

“Hello!” he says again. “The Sand People are gone. You can come out now.”

Leia hesitates, but both logic and her gut tell her the same thing: this might — this must — be Obi-Wan Kenobi. Who else would be out here?

She stands and lowers her rifle. “I could use some help.”

The man tilts his head to the side, just slightly, and then nods. “Of course.”

#

Luke wakes at the light touch of the man’s hand on his shoulder. He sits up, blinking and shaking his head.

They’re still gathered on that cliff, where the creature had attacked Luke and where Leia had ducked for cover as she shot the others. It hadn’t made sense to try to move Luke. Now Leia stays out of the way, leaning against the rocky outcrop that had provided her cover, while the man fusses over Luke, checking him over.

“Rest easy, son,” the man says. “You’ve had a busy day.”

Luke sighs and rubs the back of his neck.

“You’re fortunate to be all in one piece,” the man continues.

“Ben?” Luke says, squinting. “Ben Kenobi? Boy am I glad to see you!”

 _You and me both_ , Leia thinks, smiling, her suspicions confirmed.

“The Jundland Wastes are not to be travelled lightly,” Ben Kenobi says. He helps Luke stand and leads him to a boulder to sit on. “It’s a good thing your friend was here…”

“Leia!” He starts, as if he’d forgotten her, and he first glances down into the ravine, where he’d left her with Artoo, before he spots her standing nearby.

Ben follows the boy’s gaze, but if he recognizes her name at all, as the daughter of a close friend, he doesn’t show it. He settles onto the boulder next to Luke.

“Leia — are you alright?” Luke says, trying to stand, but both Kenobi and Leia gesture for him to stay put.

“Oh, she’s fine,” Ben says, his smile creeping into his tone. “She’s the one that saved you.”

“Saved…” Luke trails off, noticing his rifle sitting on the ledge next to Leia. He shakes his head again, as if to clear it. “Ben, this is Leia…”

But here she cuts in, stepping forward to stand before Kenobi. It’s time for a proper introduction. “Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan,” she says.

“She’s looking for — ” Luke starts, but then he turns back to Leia. “Princess! You never said you were… I mean… a _princess_?”

Leia smiles and pats Luke shoulder. “I’m sorry. I was trying to stay under the radar.”

When she turns back to look at Kenobi, he’s staring at her, hand stroking his beard.

“Tell me, young Leia,” Ben says. “What brings you out this far?”

‘Far’ is a small word to encompass just how much distance she’s traveled. Across the lightyears between Yavin 4 and Tatooine, across miles and miles of sand between Mos Eisley and the middle of the Jundland Wastes.

Perhaps, by the distant look in Ben’s eyes, across time itself.

“I’m looking for General Obi-Wan Kenobi,” she says, staring at him intently, eyes bright and knowing.

Ben nods, and that distant look stretches, brows furrowing.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he says thoughtfully. “Obi-Wan.”

And then he nods again, hands gesturing in an aborted clap, as he comes back to the present. “Now that’s a name I’ve not heard in a long time. A long time.”

“I think my uncle knows him,” Luke says. “He said he was dead.”

“Oh he’s not dead,” Ben says wryly. And while Luke is taking a while to catch on, Leia _knows_. She grins triumphantly, but neither of them notice. Ben rolls his eyes. “Not yet.”

“Do you know him?” Luke asks.

“Well of course I know him!” Ben points to his chest. “He’s me!”

Artoo beeps and squeaks excitedly.

“I haven’t gone by the name of Obi-Wan since, oh, before you were born.”

“General Kenobi,” Leia says, folding her hands together and trying to wipe the smile from her face, adopting the more serious expression of a princess campaigning on behalf of her people. “You served my father during the Clone Wars — ”

A faint war cry echoes down the ravine.

“I think we better get indoors.” He stands up. “The Sand People are easily startled, but they’ll soon be back. And in greater numbers.”

Artoo whistles and chirps.

“Threepio!” Luke says, standing up. He looks around and finds the droid’s arm several meters away, and a little beyond that, the rest of him. Kenobi and Luke help the droid sit up.

“Where am I?” Threepio says. “I think I took a bad step…”

“Can you stand?” Luke says. “We need to get out of here before the Sand People return.”

“I don’t think I can make it.” Threepio swivels his head to look at Leia. “You go on without me, Mistress Leia. There’s no sense in you risking yourself on my account. I’m done for!”

Artoo whines.

“No you’re not!” Luke says. “What kind of talk is that?”

Leia rolls her eyes. “Let’s go, Threepio. We’ll get you a nice oil bath when this is over.”

“Quickly,” Obi-Wan says, helping Luke lift up Threepio. “They’re on the move.”

#

Obi-Wan’s hut rests on the top of a cliff, overlooking a desert valley. His home is small, nothing like the Lars’ sprawling underground complex. It’s a simple dwelling, bare but not uncomfortable, even if there are only just enough seats for them all.

Luke and Threepio settle on what must be Kenobi’s bed, so that Luke can have enough space to repair his arm. Kenobi pulls up a chair for Leia around the small coffee table before seating himself across from her.

He regards her silently for several moments, leaning back in his seat, stroking his beard. She stares back, arranging the words in her head.

“Well, let’s get on with it then,” Kenobi finally says. He adds, “Don’t be so surprised, your highness. I don’t get many visitors. I can guess what your father is asking.”

She glances away, back at Luke. As she looks his way, he pauses, meets her gaze over Threepio’s shoulder, and shrugs.

Kenobi is a Jedi, after all.

She folds her hands in front of her and turns back to him.

“General Kenobi,” she starts. “Years ago, you served my father in the Clone Wars. Now he begs you to help him in his struggle against the Empire.” She hesitates. Might as well get straight to the point. “Alliance spies have uncovered plans for a super weapon with the capability to destroy planets. The power of this weapon has already been deployed on the moon of Jedha. Artoo?”

Artoo beeps and then, all of a sudden, a hologram of a giant sphere floats before them, hovering over the coffee table.

“They call it the Death Star,” Leia says.

She doesn’t leave his gaze once during her speech, staring at him even through the blue glow of the hologram. His expression has gone distant again, eyes wide.

“The engineer responsible for the construction of this space station has defected to the Alliance,” she continues. As she speaks, the hologram animates to illustrate her point. “He has built a fatal flaw into the design. One successful shot to the exhaust ports, and the whole station will be destroyed.”

Kenobi’s face closes off, as if he slid on a mask. It reminds her vaguely of Captain Andor, of General Draven.

“The moon of Jedha,” he says softly, still watching the hologram.

“The device targeted Jedha City, specifically,” Leia explains. “But according to witness reports, a good portion of the surrounding surface was destroyed.”

Kenobi takes a deep breath. “Witness reports? There were survivors?”

“Yes, a couple. Saw Gerrera, some of his men. A native pilot. And two Guardians of the Whills.”

His eyebrows shoot up at this, and she’s not sure if he recognizes Saw’s name or if he’s intrigued about the Guardians.

“Did you know him?”

The corner of Kenobi’s mouth twitches, just a little. “Yes, I knew Saw. And his sister, too.”

“I tried to convince the Guardians to come with me,” Leia says. “But they were intent on joining another mission.”

He smirks. “Oh, I suppose the novelty of meeting a former Jedi Knight isn’t what it used to be.”

She smiles and shrugs. “We sent the engineer to speak at the Senate,” she says. “They wanted to help protect him there.”

“I’m surprised the Emperor hasn’t dissolved the Senate by now,” Kenobi muses. “Especially with a weapon such as this.”

“Will you come with me?” Leia asks.

He turns back to her. She doesn’t like the look in his eyes. “I’m afraid I’m getting too old for this sort of thing.”

“My father — the Alliance — would greatly appreciate your council.”

“My council.” Kenobi lets out a breath that halfway between a sigh and a chuckle. “My council.”

“This is our most desperate hour,” she says. “Help us, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re our only hope.”

He grunts. “I’m not sure that’s true.” He gestures to the hologram. “You don’t need me. You need a pilot.”

Now he turns to Luke. “Your father,” he says, and Luke looks up from Threepio, eyes wide. “Was the best starpilot in the galaxy. And a cunning warrior. I understand you’ve become quite a good pilot yourself.”

Luke shakes his head and turns back to Threepio, but Leia sees the proud smile he’s attempting to hide. “No, my father didn’t fight in the wars. He was a navigator on a spice freighter.”

“That’s what your uncle told you.” Kenobi dropped his hand from his beard and leaned forward slightly. “He didn’t hold with your father’s ideals. Thought he should have stayed here and not gotten involved.”

Luke looks down at his hands, pausing just a moment before resuming his repairs. His next question comes out so quiet, Leia finds herself leaning forward, too. “He fought in the Clone Wars?”

“Yes. He was a Jedi Knight, same as myself.”

“I wish I’d known him.”

“He was a good friend,” Kenobi says after a long pause. “Which reminds me… I have something for you.”

Kenobi stands and rummages through a chest behind Leia’s chair. Luke sets down his tools, apparently finished with reattaching Threepio’s arm.

The droid turns to Leia. “Mistress, if you’ll not be needing me, I’ll shut down for awhile.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

The glow in Threepio’s eyes fades.

“Your father would have wanted you to have this,” Kenobi says, handing Luke a cylindrical  electronic device covered in buttons.

Leia sits forward in her seat, eyes wide, fingers clutching the armrests.

“But your uncle wouldn’t allow it,” Kenobi continues, as Luke takes the device and examines it with wonder. “He feared you might follow Old Ben on some idealistic crusade, like your father.”

“What is it?”

“Your father’s lightsaber.”

“The weapon of a Jedi Knight,” Leia interjects.

Kenobi nods. “Not as clumsy or random as a blaster. An elegant weapon for a more civilized day.”

Luke pushes a button and the lightsaber turns on, a blue beam shooting out. It buzzes and hums as he waves it and Leia watches, mesmerized. Something else seems to hum inside her, a sense of rightness, of destiny. She stays silent and just watches.

“For over a thousand generations, the Jedi Knights were guardians of peace and justice in the Old Republic,” Kenobi says. This is history Leia already knows, history she’d been taught from a young age, history she understands is taboo in most places. But the Empire’s hold on Tatooine is not so strict or attentive. She turns to Luke to watch the expression on his face as he learns this.

But Luke’s not really listening, either. He presses a button and the lightsaber makes a whizzing sound as it turns off. “How did my father die?” he asks.

Kenobi’s demeanor has been grave enough, hearing about the Death Star, Jedha City, and Leia’s plea for him to leave with her. But at this, the whole temperature seems to drop as he folds in on himself, arms cross, the brightness in his eyes gone.

“A young Jedi named Darth Vader…”

Leia tenses as she hears the name, recalls her own run ins with the Emperor’s dog.

“ … who was a pupil of mine, until he turned to evil, helped the Empire hunt down and destroy the Jedi Knights. He betrayed and murdered your father. Now the Jedi are all but extinct. Vader was seduced by the Dark Side of the Force.”

Something seems off here, to Leia. Kenobi isn’t quite lying, or she doesn’t think so. If he is, he’s very good at hiding it. But it seems to her like he’s omitting some important detail.

At the same time, she and Luke ask their own questions:

“The Force?” Luke asks, while Leia says, “Did they know each other, then? Skywalker and Vader?”

Kenobi looks at her, gaze sharp and wondering and, she thinks, impressed. But he does not answer her question.

“The Force is what gives a Jedi his power,” he says. “It’s an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us, penetrates us. It binds the galaxy together.”

Luke’s face falls, and he turns down, to stare at the floor. She can feel it emanating off of him, his wonder, his sadness, and even some fear.

When he looks back up, Kenobi meets his gaze, leans forward. “You must learn the ways of the Force. If you’re to come with me.”

“Come with you?” Luke shakes his head, and Leia keeps her own stare fixed on him, but he avoids her eyes. “I can’t come with you. I’ve gotta get home, I’m in for it as it is. I — ”

Now he glances at Leia out of the corner of his eyes and stops himself.

“She needs your help, Luke,” Kenobi says. He waits, eyebrows raised, expectant. He’s already becoming Luke’s teacher, already testing him, already waiting for Luke to come to the right answer.

“I can’t get involved!” he exclaims, standing and pacing the small space in Kenobi’s living room. “It’s not that I like the Empire, I hate it. But there’s nothing I can do about it right now. It’s such a long way from here.”

“That’s your uncle talking,” Kenobi says. “Learn about the Force, Luke. Like your father.”

Luke shakes his head and turns away, heads up the stairs towards the kitchen, towards the side door of Kenobi’s hut.

“Luke,” Leia says, standing, following him. “The Alliance needs people with talent like yours. You saw what we’re up against.”

She puts a hand on his arm. Face still pointing at the floor, blue eyes meet hers through the fringe of his bangs.

“I can talk to your uncle,” she says. “I can pay him to find your replacement.”

He straightens at this, turns to face her fully, takes her other arm in his. “You — you would do that?”

She swallows. That humming in her chest hasn’t gone away, and meeting Luke’s gaze, the feeling only seems to increase, to warm, to glow. She knows: nevermind Kenobi’s devotion to him, _she_ can’t leave Tatooine without Luke. She doesn’t know why, doesn’t understand it, but Chirrut’s voice hasn’t left her thoughts at all since she’s arrived. _Trust your instincts_.

She thinks about Luke’s stories, about shooting womprats in that canyon, and she tells herself she’s just recruiting for the rebellion. That Luke Skywalker just might be the pilot they need to bring down the Death Star. That’s a foolish enough thought, and it’s still shades more logical than the feeling in her chest.

“I would,” she says softly. She nods, but pulls away, quickly, and clasps her hands together to hide their trembling. “The rebellion needs you. The galaxy needs you.”

“Leia,” Kenobi says, and the two each take away from each other, as though the old wizard has broken some spell on them. “Has your father ever told you…”

She looks down at him from her spot at the top of the stairs. “Yes?”

Kenobi glances between the two of them. “What do you know about your … heritage?”

“My heritage?” The awkwardness transforms into a new kind, and she laughs. “Are you going to tell me my father was a Jedi Knight as well?”

Kenobi opens his mouth, but hesitates.

He doesn’t know whether she’s aware she’s adopted. Of course she knows, and of course she’s sometimes wondered: was her birth mother interested in politics, too? Does she get her wit from her father? But she also knows that she loves her actual father and mother, Bail and Breha Organa, the people that raised her, and if their faces clouded over a little when she ever asked about her birth parents, she was fine letting it go.

“I know I was adopted,” Leia tells Kenobi. “But no, my father hasn’t told me more than that.”

Nodding, Kenobi looks away. “That’s — alright.” He nods again. “You should ask him.”

The same darkness that hovers around Bail when she brings up the subject hovers around Kenobi now. _Yea, right_ , she thinks, having little intention to bring up the subject any time soon. She doesn’t think she really wants to know about a tragic past. The present is tragic enough as it is.

But she decides to humor him for now.

Shrugging, she says, “Sure. But after all that, I’ll just be disappointed if he wasn’t a Jedi.”

“Being a princess isn’t enough for you?” Luke says. She looks back at him and he’s grinning, so she punches him lightly on the arm.

“Watch it, kid,” she says. “I’m a senator, too.”

“Is this how you argue in the Senate?”

“We call it aggressive negotiation,” she says, punching him again. Luke laughs.

Neither of them notice Kenobi, his hand playing with his beard, covering his sad smile.

#

The main command room of the Devastator is quiet, except for the hum of the computers and Darth Vader’s breathing. Vader stands at the far end of the bridge by the window, gazing out at the stars.

Captain Ronnadam appears around the corner, walking with purpose towards Lord Vader.

“Captain!”

Just where the corridor ends and the bridge begins, Ronnadam pauses and swivels. Lieutenant Ree, leaning over the console of some subordinate analyst, gestures him over.

“I think we’ve found something, sir,” Ree says.

Ronnadam frowns down at the console. “Princess Leia has landed on Tatooine?” He snorts. “What of it?”

“Sir — isn’t it odd that Alderaan would take interest in an Outer Rim planet like this? They could be smuggling — ”

“If you want to grasp at straws, Lieutenant — “

Mechanized breathing interrupts him. Everyone — Ronnadam, Ree, and the analyst seated at the console, turns slowly to face Lord Vader.

“Have you found something, Captain?”

“Yes, m’lord,” Ree says quickly. Ronnadam’s frown has straightened out, his thin lips paralleling his thin mustache in an expression he believes to be neutral.

Vader leans over the screen. The rhythmic breathing of his apparatus fuels the tension, like an eerie clock, counting down the seconds to Vader’s inevitable judgment.

“Princess Leia is on Tatooine,” Vader says. He sounds thoughtful, intrigued, maybe, but no one breathes a sigh of relief, not yet. “Tell me, Captain Ronnadam. Does the Rebel Alliance have any ties to this planet?”

“None that we know of, Lord Vader,” Ronnadam says.

Ree adds, “The report indicates some local issues with their scan docs.”

“The planet is almost devoid of resources,” Ronnadam cuts in, practically talking over her. “It’s mainly just a desert. Just sand and smugglers.”

“I’m well aware of Tatooine’s terrain, Captain.” Ree swallows and the analyst shifts in her seat. “What I am not aware of is why you are giving me a geology lesson.”

“Sir — there’s no discernible reason she would go there. She probably just needs to refuel.”

“Refuel in an Outer Rim planet?”

Ree edges away from Ronnadam slightly.

“No. There is only one reason Bail Organa would send his daughter to a remote planet such as this.”

Vader turns away, starts back towards the bridge. “Lieutenant, inform the local troops to keep that ship grounded and search for the princess. Captain, set course for Tatooine.”

“But Lord Vader —”

Vader puts his hand up and Ronnadam immediately flinches, hands jerking up towards his neck preemptively. But Vader is not choking him.

“Inform your troops,” Vader says to Ree. “They will leave the Jedi to me.”

#

Luke’s landspeeder is, by all accounts, an impractical vehicle. Leia can hardly see how it came into a farmer’s possession, considering it’s limited seating capacity and cargo space. If it wasn’t so beat up — held together by numerous mechanical patch jobs — she’d wonder if it had originally been intended as a sports model.

And she can’t remotely fathom why a vehicle used on Tatooine, of all places, lacks a roof. The windshield provides no protection from the twin suns or from the sand blowing across the desert.

She wouldn’t have normally allowed such complaints to pervade her thoughts so completely.

But then she didn’t normally try to squeeze among four other beings in a transport intended only for two.

She reminds herself: her mission is nearly complete. She is on her way back to Luke’s home, so they can journey further on to Mos Eisley, back to her ship, back to base, where even the humid jungle sounds more appealing than the dry, sandy hell she currently finds herself on.

Leia Organa ought to know better by now, than to think any mission for the rebellion would be even this easy.

They spot the dewbacks from a distance, great hunches of gray crowded around the rising white mound of the Lars Homestead entrance.

Luke slows the speeder, but in the flat desert, the stormtroopers must spot them, even from a long way off.

“If we can see them,” Kenobi says, “they can see us.”

“What do you think they want?” Luke asks.

Leia feels Kenobi's gaze and imagines she can hear his thoughts. But why would the Empire have tracked her here? At a small farm in the middle of nowhere on a planet the Empire has never shown any interest in?

“We’ll find out soon enough,” is all Kenobi says.

Leia frowns.

Stormtroopers are known to shoot first and never ask questions, and Luke’s aunt and uncle are innocent. If ‘troopers are tailing her based on any intel regarding her prior work with the rebellion, Owen and Beru may have been caught in her wake.

She doesn’t want to live with that.

As they pull up to the property, a ‘trooper waves them over. Luke steers towards them, and Leia clutches the small hope that maybe this is a good sign.

“Step out of the vehicle,” the ‘trooper commands, voice warped to a crackling static.

Kenobi nods and they climb out of the speeder. Tumble feels like a better word, as they shift over and around each other; never has she felt on more unstable footing.

She has a bad feeling about this.

“What seems to be the trouble?” Kenobi asks, once they’re all out of the speeder.

“Hey!” the ‘trooper shouts, ignoring Kenobi’s question. He raises his blaster, and when Leia turns to see what he’s pointing at, she spots Luke, leaning over to look into the courtyard below.

Startled, Luke steps back and raises his hands. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I just—”

“Are the owners of the property around?” Kenobi asks mildly, as if they were casual visitors calling on a neighbor.

Leia eyes the trooper, dubious. Giving away that information would give away control of the situation, would establish Kenobi as the one in power.

“Downstairs, in the dining room,” he responds.

Then again, she may have overestimated the logical capabilities of the Empire’s pawns.

Luke lets out a long sigh; his shoulders sag, tension cut loose.

“How can we help you?” Kenobi asks. Leia arches one eyebrow, but otherwise says nothing.

The ‘trooper stares in silence for a moment.

“Let me see your identification,” he finally says.

“You don’t need to see our identification,” Kenobi says, waving his hand.

“I don’t need to see your identification,” the ‘trooper repeats.

“We aren’t the ones you’re looking for,” Kenobi says.

“You aren’t the ones we’re looking for.”

“You’re done here.”

“We’re done here.”

The ‘trooper turns and steps away a few paces before comming his comrades.

No one moves as they wait, no one speaks when three more ‘troopers emerge from the hut entrance, no one seems to even breathe as they mount their dewbacks and plod away across the sand.

“Kenobi.”

Owen’s voice snaps the tense silence in half. He and his wife stand by their hut, having finally followed the ‘troopers outside.

“I told you never to step foot—” Owen says, but Luke rushes forward.

“It’s alright, Uncle Owen,” Luke says. “I brought him here.”

Owen redirects his fury towards Luke.

“Where have you been all day? I told you I needed you—”

“It’s my fault,” Leia says, stepping past Luke. “I couldn’t wait to meet my friend.” She gestures to Kenobi. “I begged him to take me.”

Owen looks at Leia now, like a man with a blaster who doesn’t know where to point it.

His glare loses some of its intensity, but not enough, Leia thinks, to be considered even remotely within the realm of civility.

“You off-worlders can’t leave well enough alone,” he mutters. “I let you into my home. Do you know what kind of dangers are out there?” He sighs, shakes his head. “Make no mistake, Sand People will kill you on sight, or worse. You’re lucky you didn’t get yourselves killed.”

“Owen,” Beru says softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. He shakes her away.

“There are beings,” Kenobi says, and he must be frustrated, but he still sounds calm, “worse than Sand People. If we don’t leave soon, they’ll find us here. I can fool a few stormtroopers, but others are less open to such tricks.”

Owen stares blankly at the Jedi Knight for a moment. “Enough riddles.”

“Darth Vader is on his way.”

Leia pales.

But the blank look doesn’t leave Owen’s face.

“The emperor’s right hand man,” Kenobi says, his tone clipped, professional, like he’s simply a history teacher going over the “Who’s Who” of Imperial hierarchy.

Owen looks back at Leia. “Who _are_ you?” he asks, confusion and curiosity finally besting his anger.

“He’s not here for her,” Kenobi says.

Both Owen and Leia whip their heads around in synchrony. “He’s not?” they both ask.

“Well of course not,” Kenobi says. “He’s here for me.”

Understanding dawns on Leia. She should have known. Should have realized. The Empire must have been tracking her, that comes as no surprise, and they’re still hunting down the last of the Jedi Knights, after all these years. But it doesn’t explain how they knew she came to Tatooine for Kenobi.

And Owen still remains completely in the dark. “The stormtroopers were asking about her, though.”

“Leia is a senator and a princess from Alderaan,” Kenobi explains. “A planet which has, perhaps, been less than careful about it’s sympathies for the rebellion.”

Leia crosses her arms and nods.

“They tracked her here,” he continues, “to an Outer Rim planet she’s never been too before, and wondered why she’d come here. And someone remembered that her father knew Obi-Wan Kenobi, and they never had tracked him down.”

“Kind of a stretch,” Owen mumbles.

“I have to get back to my ship,” Leia says. “If they traced me here…”

Kenobi nods.

“Owen,” he says, still calm and soft, drawing from a well of patience so deep, Leia can’t even imagine how it hasn’t dried up after decades on this desert. Hers certainly has.

Luke’s uncle looks at him warily, but his anger at least seems to have dissipated.

“Take the ‘speeder,” Owen says, nodding towards it. “Luke will pick it up tomorrow.”

Neither Leia nor Kenobi move.

“Owen,” Kenobi repeats. “Luke must come with us.”

“This is ridiculous,” Owen says. “I have a business to run. I can’t—”

Kenobi walks forward, closes the distance between him and Owen, and puts a hand on his arm. Leia doesn’t really think he’s using any Jedi tricks, and she’s not even sure something like that would work on this hard-headed man, but, well. She’s not a Jedi.

“Owen,” he says, for a third time, and finally he sheds that calm, practiced tone. “You must accept this destiny. You know this better than anyone, don’t you? You reap the lands you’re given.”

“What’s he talking about?” Luke says, interrupting, but softly. She thinks, maybe, she hears fear in his his tone, though his voice never trembles.

“Luke,  you must come with me,” Kenobi says.

“I…”

“Luke will stay.”

“Owen,” Beru says, placing her hand on his other arm. “You know he can’t anymore. Not if…”

“If you’re so concerned about your farm,” Leia says, and her voice is cutting and harsh. “I can pay you the cost to hire new hands.”

“Pay me?” Owen’s brows rise. “Pay me.” He shakes his head. When he talks next, it’s not at all the weary frustration she’s become accustomed to hearing from him. “I’ve protected this boy since he was a baby, and you want to take him off on some fool adventure? How did that fare with his father, when you took him away? He should have stayed here with his family. I won’t see that happen to Luke, I…”

He can’t continue, chokes on whatever words come next. There are tears in his eyes. Kenobi pulls away as Beru wraps her arm around his shoulders, and all the while, Luke blinks dumbly, feet unmoving.

“Darth Vader murdered my father,” Luke says quietly. It’s an emotional question that follows, but also a very logical one. A very persuasive one. “What will he do to me?”

Owen doesn’t dispute it. “I’ve protected you this long,” he says.

“You can’t protect him from Darth Vader,” Leia says. “No one could. Except, maybe, a Jedi Knight.”

Three sets of tearful eyes flicker to Kenobi.

“What do _you_ want, Luke?” Leia asks.

He stares at her, and she wonders if he feels it, too, this connection, this line that ties them together.

He looks back at his uncle. “I want to train to be a Jedi Knight, like my father.”

Owen closes his eyes, drops his shoulders, like a marionette cut loose. This is his defeat.

“I’m sorry, uncle,” he says. “But I can’t stand idly by while … the galaxy suffers.”

“You’ve always been a sweet boy,” Beru says. Tears stream down her face. Leia suspects she saw this end sooner than her husband.

Leia blinks and suddenly the scene shifts: Luke is at his aunt’s side, embracing her, and this is no longer a flight, but a farewell. (Although, she thinks, at the back of her mind, they _really_ ought to be leaving.)

“Stay safe,” he says, “I promise I’ll come back and visit.”

“There was another boy who made the same promise to his mother,” Owen mutters.

But Luke lets go of Beru and steps in front of his uncle.

“I won’t make my father’s mistakes,” Luke says. He offers a lopsided grin. “I was raised by you after all.”

Owen pulls him into a hug then.

When they part, he says, “Sell the ‘speeder. You might need the credits.”

Luke nods.

“You should stay away from home for a couple days,” Kenobi says to Beru and Owen. “Do you have a friend you can stay with?”

Owen nods.

“Will we be safe — after?” Beru asks.

“Vader won’t come back, once I’m off planet,” Kenobi says. “He doesn’t much like it here.”

He says it with conviction, with truth permeating the atmosphere somehow, and they all believe him.

Beru and Owen have another landspeeder, and Luke insists on waiting to watch them leave before they depart. They all climb into his as they wait, and Leia tries to make herself a little more comfortable this time.

Luke takes off after his aunt and uncle, following along for a little ways, before they veer off. Luke’s knuckles whiten as his aunt and uncle disappear over the horizon, but he says nothing.

#

“Will they be alright?”

Luke’s voice is so quiet when he says it, and Leia has half-drifted off to sleep as they ride through all-too-familiar sandscapes. But she sits so close to him, she hears it.

“We can never know these things for sure,” Kenobi responds, just as softly. “But I believe it.”

“How do you know Vader is coming?”

“He’s been hunting down the Jedi since, well, before you were born.” He pauses. “And I can sense his presence. He is already here.”

“My ship — ” Leia starts.

“No doubt, they’ve quarantined your ship,” Kenobi says. “You will not be able to leave on it.”

“But my people — ”

“With some luck,” Kenobi says, “we can create a distraction. If both you and I leave on a different ship, Vader will lose interest in yours and chase after us.”

“Chase us?” Luke says.

“We can’t have him follow us,” Leia says.

“We’ll need a fast ship.”

#

Leia finds herself in a familiar bar.

Sitting across from a familiar man.

Feeling a familiar sort of ire.

“Fast ship?” he says, a little incredulous at Kenobi’s doubt. “You’ve never heard of the Millennium Falcon?”

“Should I have?” Kenobi retorts. (She never suspected she _wouldn’t_ like this close friend of her father’s, whom he’s spoken well of, but she likes him a little more for this.)

“It’s the ship that made the Kessel run in less than twelve parsecs!”

Kenobi shrugs.

“I’ve outrun Imperial starships, not the local bulk-cruisers, mind you,” he continues. She cannot hide her eyeroll. “I’m talking about the big Corellian ships now. She’s fast enough for you, old man. What’s the cargo?”

“Only passengers,” he answers. “Myself, two boys, the girl, and no questions asked.”

Han’s eyes widen in mock-disbelief as he looks around the table. Biggs is the only one missing (out selling Luke’s speeder), but even still, he’s probably justified in saying, “That’s a crowded ship.”

Leia tunes out the conversation, tapping her foot and looking around at the rest of the bar. Arrival in Mos Eisley had confirmed: her ship is grounded. When Biggs had gone searching for the hangar number she’d given him, he could barely get within a few blocks of it. He poked around as best he could, without raising suspicion. It didn’t seem as though anyone had been hurt; in fact, it seemed as though the Empire was doing it’s best to keep it quiet.

That seemed entirely unlike Vader.

“He’s exercising more caution than usual,” Kenobi had explained. “He doesn’t want to ruin his chance to confront me.”

“How do you know that?” Leia had asked, because she needs more than just gut instincts to convince her this isn’t some horrible trap.

“Vader was my pupil,” he’d said, “and besides, I can feel his emotions through the Force. He is very close.”

“Can he sense you?”

Kenobi had nodded. “He can tell that I am close, but no more than that.”

“Ten thousand!” Luke exclaims beside her, and she’s reluctantly pulled back into the present conversation. “We could almost buy our own ship for that!”

“But who’s going to fly it, kid? You?”

“You bet I could, I’m not such a bad pilot myself!” He gestures towards Biggs. “And Biggs here…”

Biggs raises his hands. “We don’t have time to go shopping,” he says.

“We haven’t that much with us,” Kenobi says. Leia did, aboard her ship. Which she doesn’t have access to. (And the people who did … but she tries to suppress those thoughts. She can only do what she can, and her primary mission is to get Kenobi and Luke off-planet. Raymus will have to look out for himself.) “But we could pay you two thousand now, plus fifteen when we reach our destination.”

“And where is that? You still haven’t said,” Han says. “I can’t get you there if I don’t know where I’m going.”

“Our droid will plug in the coordinates,” Leia says, leaning forward. “If we decide to hire you.”

Han leans across the table towards her. “No one messes with my ship, princess.”

She glares.

Han glares back for a moment longer, then leans back against the seat. “Seventeen, huh!” He pauses. “Okay. You guys got yourself a ship. We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready. Docking bay Ninety-Four.”

#

Darth Vader strides forward, footsteps heavy with purpose.

Obi-Wan is in Mos Eisley.

Behind him, Princess Leia’s staff watches, bewildered and relieved to see the back of his cape.

Obi-Wan will not come to him.

In front of him, civilians (traders, transients, traffickers—he cares not what they do) dart out of his way. Do these people know of him? Darth Vader, the Emperor’s right hand man, once a slave of this very planet? No.

Obi-Wan knows he is here.

The master can sense the student, if the student can sense the master.

(That is not what they are to each other. Not anymore.)

Vader does not breathe faster with the anticipation of this confrontation, though he’s waited for this moment for nineteen years. The mechanisms do not allow for that. (It’s one benefit among a series of detriments.)

(Obi-Wan is the reason a machine must breathe for him.)

Tatooine is hot, but not as hot as Mustafar.

Not as hot as the blood coursing through his veins.

Obi-Wan is _running_.

Darth Vader has lurked in a hangar, standing in the shadow of some old Corellian Cruiser and intimidating men who officially work for the senator of Alderaan and unofficially work for the rebellion — this he knows. This they have not proven, for a fact, but Alderaanian ships seem all too prone to falling into the hands of the rebels.

But he doesn’t care, because Obi-Wan will not face him.

He’s waited hours, feeling the Force ripple, feeling Obi-Wan come closer and closer.

It is their destiny — they both know it. They both know how this story will end. Darth Vader is more powerful than he ever has been, than the Jedi could have ever allowed, and Obi-Wan Kenobi has, apparently, been wasting away on this sand pile for the last two decades.

There is only one outcome.

And Obi-Wan flees.

Why would he flee? What does he have to lose?

It is a disappointment.

But he is used to being disappointed by Obi-Wan.

Still, it is unexpected.

For all the things Obi-Wan was, a coward was not one of them.

He is so close — within the city, on some street nearby — but still Vader cannot locate him. He pushes out in the Force, probing, prodding the presence that is his former master and coming up with — yes, it is fear, but it is not fear for himself, it is fear for — an apprentice?

Unwittingly, Vader halts in the middle of the street.

An apprentice?

The man is intent on making the same mistakes. He is an old fool.

Curious, Vader shifts his focus, explores for other presences in the Force. He finds, of course, the princess, a familiar thorn in the Force. It’s not unusual, for persons as brash as herself, to make a small impression in the Force around her. He pays it no mind. Instead he keeps searching, until he finds it: and it’s _strong_ , and untrained, completely untrained. So Obi-Wan must have only recently discovered him.

The Emperor will appreciate this new asset, but he considers it merely a side mission.

After all, Obi-Wan Kenobi is one of the last remaining Jedi, and his defeat shall mark another step towards a more peaceful galaxy, another door closed on the corruption of the past.

He uses this second presence to track them; the child cannot hide himself at all, let alone as well as Obi-Wan.

Vader strides towards his destiny.

#

“What a piece of junk!”

Leia glances over at Luke and doesn’t bother hiding her smirk. She’s inclined to agree, but then the rebellion has never been particularly picky about the ships in their fleet.

“She’ll make point five beyond the speed of light,” Han says, emerging from the shadows beneath the ship, a rag in his hand. “She may not look like much, but she’s got it where it counts, kid. I’ve made a lotta special modifications myself.”

Luke eyes the captain and his ship skeptically.

“I’ve seen worse,” Leia mutters to him, so only Luke can hear. She wouldn’t give Han any satisfaction. “Come on, we don’t have much of a choice anymore.”

“We’re a little rushed,” Han says, “so if you'll hurry aboard, we'll get out of here.”

Luke leads the way towards the ramp, Biggs and the droids trailing after him. Han wipes his hands and looks at her.

“The old man still coming?” he asks.

“Don’t you have enough seating?” she retorts back, but then he points, the rag dangling from his fingers, towards the entrance.

Kenobi is nowhere in sight.

She glances back at the ship, as if she might find he’s snuck by her, and sees Luke, paused and watching and just as confused.

When did he slip away?

Where could he have gone?

The hairs on the back of her neck prickle, and she _knows_ what has happened.

“Can you wait five minutes?” she snaps, and before he can answer, she rushes back towards the street.

But stormtroopers enter, rifles ready and pointed directly at her and at the ship behind her. She raises her hands and walks backwards.

“Arrest her!” the commander shouts. “Stop that ship!”

She can’t tell who shoots first.

Docking Bay 94 erupts into red crossfire.

From beneath the bowels of his ship, Han fires; from the cover of the ramp, Luke raises his own rifle to join. And ‘troopers, everywhere, flowing into the pit from multiple entrances.

“Come on!” Han shouts.

But there is a blaster in her hand, one she snagged from Luke’s ‘speeder before they sold it, the same one she’d used against the Sand People to save Luke.

Stray bolts hit the walls; rubble and dust rain upon her.

She came here for two, and she’s not leaving without them. Either of them.

“Biggs!” Leia shouts, tilting her head towards Luke. “Get him out of here.”

Leia is a princess and a senator and a leader of the rebellion; she is a woman used to giving orders. Biggs just returned from training at the Academy; he is a soldier used to taking them.

He grabs Luke’s arm and drags him up the ramp.

She ducks behind two large yellow power supply tanks and joins the fray, picking off ‘troopers.

“Let’s go!” Han shouts at her again, but she ignores him and advances towards one of the doors, taking cover by sticking close to the wall.

Han fires and a few bolts streak past her; when she turns the corner, she sees two ‘troopers at her feet.

They would have ambushed her.

She slides into the alcove; it’s clear enough, now, her to make a break towards the door.

But the alley is empty.

Puzzled, panicked, she rushes back inside, closes the door and blasts the control panel to keep it shut.

Where could he be?

Distantly, she’s aware of Han yelling at her. She ignores him.

The battle is drawing to a close. As she circles around the hangar, shooting lingering ‘troopers in her way, she sees most of them in two places: lying prone on the ground or retreating back to another alcove ‘round the far side, where they line up, gathering as if to — watch a play?

And that is where she finally finds him.

The bright blue of his lightsaber illuminates the whole alcove: stacks of crates, control panels, and a doorway.

She can hear it now; she can hear the familiar breathing.

And she can see a faint red glow beyond that door.

She approaches, quietly, and none of the ‘troopers even seem to notice.

Until Kenobi glances her way.

“Run, Leia, run!” he says, before she can hurry towards him.

“Not without you!” she shouts back.

Several stormtroopers finally turn her way, but before they can do anything, a series of blast bolts razes through the crowd, hitting ‘troopers, some crates, and the wall with it.

She glances over her shoulder to see shots firing from a cannon attached to the belly of the ship, near the ramp. Han curses.

“You better know what you’re doing, kid!” he shouts towards the cockpit.

Leia targets the control panel by Kenobi, and the door swooshes shut.

A strange feeling rolls over her and she’s almost bowled over by it: rage. Frustration.

Kenobi jerks, as if from a dream, and finally moves towards her.

“Alright,” he says, as if they were just discussing some political issue over a cup of tea and she’d finally convinced him of her argument. “Let’s go.”

She stares at him for a moment that must be short but stretches out in front of her. Another ‘trooper falls beside her, and she nods and hurries back towards the ramp, taking out any ‘troopers that avoided the cannon fire.

At the bottom of the ramp, she looks back for him, but sees him unmoved, still standing at the door.

A door that she’d just locked.

He takes one step back.

The door crumples, as if clenched by a giant, invisible fist, and then flies towards Kenobi.

He deflects it and it clatters to the ground.

A large figure fills the frame, a black shadow behind the red glow of a lightsaber.

“No,” she whispers.

To his credit, the captain has not given up his position, has not fled into his ship. Without hesitating, Han shoots at Darth Vader.

The Sith Lord raises one hand and the bolts vanish.

But Leia follows Han’s example and shoots.

She knows her shots will never hit their target. The distraction is enough.

Kenobi finally turns towards the ship.

Han does the same, firing a few wild shots as he runs to the ramp.

“This is no time for heroics,” he yells as he reaches her, and he tries to pull her up the ramp after him.

“Someone has to save our skins,” she says, shaking him off.

He shrugs and continues down the hall. “Chewie, get us out of here!” she hears him shout.

From the top of the ramp, she looks back into the hangar, just as Kenobi backs into view.

To the left, she can hear the laser cannon fire, assumes its bolts target Vader.

“Face me,” she hears him say, and hearing his voice sends another shiver down her spine. The laser fire might as well be a light rain. “It is your destiny.”

“Not today, Darth,” Kenobi says.

Vader practically growls at this and rushes forward, straight into her line of view from the top of the ramp. Kenobi blocks his slash just in time, and then a blast bolt from the cannon surges towards him, missing his cape by inches. It glances off the yellow power boxes behind him, the same that Leia had used as cover earlier, and she gets an idea.

She aims her blaster carefully, pointing it between Vader and Kenobi.

She fires.

She misses by inches, by millimeters, and nothing happens. Kenobi takes a few quick steps towards the ship.

The laser cannon fires once more, aimed directly to the same spot she’d targeted.

The power supply blows.

Vader stumbles to the ground as Kenobi makes contact with the ramp. It rises as he rushes up, and as it closes, Leia watches, wide-eyed, staring down at her enemy, staring at his blank mask, staring at the hollow eyes that she knows watch hers.

She clutches at the ship, and she swears, she can _feel_ his fury rumbling off him in waves, threatening to pull her under.

And then the ramp is closed.

The ship rises as she and Kenobi rush to get seated.

“Oh my!” Threepio exclaims as she slides in next to him. “I’ve forgotten how much I hate space travel.”

“Where’s Luke?” she asks, hesitating with the buckle in her hands.

Bolts zap the belly of the ship and she answers her own question as she hears the responding fire.

“He’ll be alright,” Kenobi says, putting a hand on her shoulder so she sits back down.

The ship inclines sharply as they fight gravity.

“ _I’ve seen worse_ ,” she’d told Luke, but the ship wobbles as they rise above the planet and she finds herself clinging to the dejarik table.

“I’m not sure we weren’t better off facing him,” she grumbles. Kenobi tries to hide a smirk behind his hand, but she sees it and grins back.

The ship evens out as they slide into space. After mere seconds of stability, she unbuckles and pushes past Kenobi, towards the cockpit.

Biggs and Luke are already there, hovering behind the pilot’s chair.

“...must be hotter than I thought,” Han is saying as she enters. He spots her and winks, but when he continues speaking, he’s talking to his Wookie friend. “Try and hold ‘em off. Angle the deflector shield while I make the calculations for the jump to lightspeed.”

She peers out the cockpit window and sees an Imperial Cruiser.

“That’s Vader’s ship,” she says, but neither the Wookie nor Han pay any attention. Han is busy with his calculations as the Wookie flips several switches on the dashboard. (Of course, it’s not like Vader is on it right now.)

“I told them where we’re going,” Biggs says. “Didn’t seem a point in hiding it at this rate.”

She nods.

“Stay sharp!” Han says, pushing past her and sliding into the pilot seat. “There are two more coming in; they’re going to try to cut us off.”

“Why don’t you outrun them?” Luke says. “I thought you said this thing was fast!”

“Watch your mouth, kid, or you’re going to find yourself floating home!” He pauses. “We’ll be safe enough once we make the jump to hyperspace.” He fiddles with some switches. “Besides, I know a few maneuvers, we’ll lose ‘em.”

The ship rocks as the Cruisers fire upon it. Leia grips the back of Han’s seat.

“How long before you can make the jump to lightspeed?” Kenobi asks.

“A few moments to get the coordinates from the navi-computer.”

“Are you kidding? At the rate they’re gaining—” Luke cries.

“Traveling through hyperspace ain’t like dusting crops, boy!”

The ship shudders as they’re hit once more.

“Come on, Luke,” Leia says, taking his hand. They’re halfway out the door when the ship gets hit a third time.

“What’s that flashing!” Luke shouts, pulling out of Leia’s grip and pointing.

Han smacks his hand out of the way.

“Let him do his job, Luke,” Biggs says.

“We’re losing our deflector shield,” Han says. “Go strap yourself in, I’m going to make the jump to light speed.”

No one wastes another moment at that news. As they settle in, the ship gives one final shudder, and they whoosh into hyperspace.

#

There will be no covering this up now.

There’s no chance Alderaan can pretend she was just on a diplomatic mission. (Not that she’d expected such a cover to explain her trip to Alderaan; she hadn’t expected to need a cover.)

She was caught escorting a Jedi Knight.

And she left the crew of the Tantive IV — men and women she knew well — behind on Tatooine, at the mercy of a furious Sith Lord.

“Hey.” Luke slides next to her, where she stands watching the Wookie and Artoo play a game of dejarik. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” she says, greeting him with a small but warm smile. It’s nice of him to ask. “How are you feeling?”

Luke shrugs. “I’ve wanted to leave for so long, but all I can think about are my aunt and uncle.”

He frowns and glances away, stares at nothing. She takes his hand.

“They’ll be alright,” she says. “Tatooinians seem pretty tough.”

He grins and looks back at her. “Well, we like to think so.”

“You can forget your troubles with those Imperials slugs,” Han says, entering the cabin. “I told you I’d outrun them.”

No one responds. Han settles into a chair next to a control station.

“Don’t everybody thank me at once.” He stares at them all, and still elicits silence. “Anyway, we should be at — where are we going?”

Chewbacca responds.

Han frowns. “Yavin? There’s nothing there. It’s just an empty gas giant.”

“Don’t worry, Captain,” Leia says. “You’ll get your reward.”

“Yavin has three inhabitable moons,” Kenobi says, from his seat beside Han. It’s the first he’s spoken since they entered hyperspace. “Yavin 4 was once home to an ancient species enslaved by the Sith.”

“The Sith?” Luke asks.

“An ancient enemy of the Jedi,” Kenobi explains. “They fight using the dark side of the Force. Darth Vader is a Sith lord.”

Luke nods solemnly. “Was that him? Back on Tatooine — was that the man who killed my father?”

Kenobi leans back in his chair, looks away, and sighs. “He’s more machine now than man. Twisted and evil.” He looks back at Luke. “Yes, that is the man responsible for your father’s demise.”

“Will you teach me the ways of the Force?” Luke asks.

Kenobi regards him for several moments, stroking his beard. “You must be careful, Luke,” he says finally. “Revenge is the way of the Sith, not the Jedi.”

 _He was a pupil of mine_ , Leia remembers him saying about Darth Vader.

“I won’t fall to the dark side,” Luke says, with the innocent conviction of youth.

“No,” Kenobi says. “You won’t. I will help you.” His demeanor shifts entirely as he stands. “Alright, let’s begin.”

#

Leia watches the stars streak past the cockpit windows.

“Hokey religions and ancient weapons,” Han says, entering the cockpit. She doesn’t turn to look at him or in anyway acknowledge his presence as he sits in the neighboring chair. “No match for a good blaster at your side. Where’d you learn to shoot?”

She sidesteps the condescending judgment hiding in his question — how could a _princess_ know how to shoot? — and instead serves up a question of her own.

“You don’t believe in the Force?” Leia says.

“I’ve flown from one side of this galaxy to the other,” he says, and she wonders if she’s supposed to be impressed by that. “I’ve seen a lot of strange stuff, but I’ve never seen anything to make me believe there’s one all-powerful force controlling everything.”

“Maybe you’re not as well travelled as you think you are,” she says with a shrug.

“Hey, _your worship_ ,” he says, and this time he does know the title is correct, though he sounds no less sarcastic than when they’d first met. “I’ve put more lightyears on this ship than you can even imagine — ”

“I don’t know, I can imagine quite a bit.”

She doesn’t know why she rises to his bait, how he draws her ire out of her faster than usual. She ought not to engage. Or maybe even politely explain that she _has_ travelled across the galaxy.

But she left people behind on Tatooine, and she’s endangered Alderaan’s credibility, and the Death Star still exists. So perhaps she’s entitled to rage, just a little.

Han raises his hands. “Alright. Don’t get all worked up over it.” She frowns. But he leaves, and she’s left to herself.

She did what she had to. Kenobi and Skywalker, en route to the rebel base. Mission accomplished.

This is her life, this is what she’s pledged to do until the Empire is defeated.

She can sit here, brooding about the scenes from the day, still playing in her mind: stormtroopers blocking the way to her ship, her crew; empty space where Kenobi ought to be, the red gleam of Vader’s lightsaber, the hard, blank eyes of Vader’s mask; something tugging at the back of her mind when Kenobi says, _Yes, this is the man responsible for your father’s demise;_ the strange connection and protectiveness she feels towards a boy she’s only just met.

But that is not who Leia Organa is.

There is more to be done. The Death Star waits.

She sits up in her chair and raises her chin and regards the streaking stars around her.

On to the next mission.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
